Poems
14.03.2010 / 13.13 pm
 
by Sir Philip Sidney
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On Cupid's bow how are my heartstrings bent,
That see my wrack, and yet embrace the same?
When most I glory, then I feel most shame:
I willing run, yet while I run, repent.

My best wits still their own disgrace invent:
My very ink turns straight to Stella's name;
And yet my words, as them my pen doth frame,
Avise themselves that they are vainly spent.

For though she pass all things, yet what is all
That unto me, who fare like him that both
Looks to the skies and in a ditch doth fall?

Oh let me prop my mind, yet in his growth,
And not in Nature, for best fruits unfit:
"Scholar," saith Love, "bend hitherward your wit."


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Song From Arcadia

My true love hath my heart, and I have his,
By Just Exchange, one for the other given.
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0
 

Splendidis Longum Valedico Nugis

Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust,
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Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0
 

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By just exchange, one for the other giv'n.
Rating: 4.20
Votes: 5
 
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I had everything and luck: Rings of smoke
blown for me; sunlight safe inside the leaves
Rating: 5.00
Votes: 1
 

The Roads Also

The roads also have their wistful rest,
When the weathercocks perch still and roost,
Rating: 4.00
Votes: 4
 

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Friendless and faint, with martyred steps and slow,
Faint for the flesh, but for the spirit free,
Rating: 1.00
Votes: 1
 

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I used to think that this environ-
Ment talk was all a lot of guff;
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0
 

Variation On A Theme

June 30th, 1919

Rating: 4.00
Votes: 2
 








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